Compassion
by The Rickmaniac Society
Summary: By Wil, part of the RS challenge. Plotless slash? No. Voldie decides to start causing trouble and Harry is sent to live with Snape over the holidays, where they both confront hidden emotions. Ooo. What's the harm in reading it even if the summary stinks?
1. The Kindest Thing

*******Disclaimer; NMNW (Not mine never were)  
  
Rating; Should be NC17 if there was a category, but there isn't so we'll *ahem* tone down the humping for an R *ahem, cough*  
  
Nods to;diagonalist for writing Flawed Lines, that was such a great fic it gave everyone inspiration ^_^ and....um.....me! for writing such an oustanding first chapter! Umm.....^o^ ************  
  
  
  
  
Chapter One; The Kindest Thing  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry walked through the corridors of Hogwarts. he was heading for Dumbledore's office - he didn't know why, although if the scathing looks from passing teachers, Snape especially, of course, were anything to go by he'd done something wrong. Again.  
  
He rounded a corner and walked up to the revolving staircase. He felt someone sigh laboriously behind him. Harry closed his eyes and felt his stomach flip. If he turned now, Snape would be standing behind him. Probably glaring at the back of his head. Harry itched to turn around, but he wouldn't give the greasy potions master the gratification of seeing him look at him. Besides, Harry reminded himself as his stomach flipped again, he doubted that he could look directly into the older man's eyes without doing something embarrasing.  
  
For the past year or so, Harry had discovered feelings for Snape. He found the man's dark eyes irresistable, the way he moved enchanting, and his voice.....Harry hated him, of course, but in a way he loved him. He smiled to himself. If only the others knew about him being - the way he was, different, feeling like this towards men - they'd die of shock. No-one knew, only Dean, and he wasn't going to tell anyone. He'd promised not to. Harry smiled again.  
  
"What are you smirking at?" Snape growled. Harry bit his lip and couldn't resist not looking up, and found himself on the recieving end of an intense stare. "Well?" he snapped.  
  
"Nothing," Harry found himself replying. Snape's eyes narrowed - Harry presumed with loathing - and then he looked away, at the staircase. The boy kept on looking at him for a moment, his elegant nose, the curl of his lip - Harry wished he could.......No, he told himself firmly. No fantasizing. There was no point. Him and Snape in a relationship? Laughable. Ridiculous. And yet....  
  
Dumbledore suddenly appeared at the foot of the staircase, looking pensive. He looked at them both for a moment - Harry's quizzical expression, Snape's scowl, then pursed his lip and said: "I think you'd better both come to my office."  
  
Snape gave Harry one more long glower - nothing like overdoing it, Harry thought bitterly - then followed Dumbledore up. Then Harry did the same.  
  
When he got to the top of the stairs, Dumbledore had made his way over to the desk and sat down. Snape stormed over to one of the seats in the corner, leaving Harry the one directly in front of the headmaster's desk. Dumbledore held out a basket. "Lemon drop?"   
  
"No thanks," Harry said quietly. Then he paused. "Have i done something wrong?"  
The lines around the headmaster's eyes crinkled as he put the basket back down on his desk. "No, dear boy. Why would you think that?"  
  
Because i've been carted off to the headmaster's office, and Snape is here with a face like a wet weekend in the midlands, he felt like replying. But he didn't. He shrugged. Snape, behind him, snorted. Harry wished he'd shut up. It was bad enough being in the same room with him, let alone having to suffer his wrath for something he didn't even know he'd done.  
  
Dumbledore was looking at him again. "I'm sure you've heard of increasing Death Eater attacks on some villages in Wales," he said. Harry nodded. They'd been in the Daily Prophet almost every day for a week now, villages ransacked, hundreds dead. "And," Dumbledore continued, "We are growing increasingly worried for your safety, Harry. We're concerned that after Voldemort's finished in Wales he's going to come after you." Harry wanted to say something, but no sound came out. "And we think neither the school or your current home in Privet Drive can offer enough protection. You need round-the-clock wizard surveillance until the Wizarding world has a handle on things."  
  
"Well, i can go and stay with the Weasley's, can't i?" Harry offered. Dumbledore shook his head, and cast a reproving look at the chair in the corner. Obviously Snape had just glared or scowled at the back of Harry's chair.  
  
"The Weasley family, much as they'd like to have you, can't offer you that twenty four hour protection. However, there is a professor in this school with a home far enough away from either place to give you safety during this time-" Oh no, Harry thought. Please no. "-And sufficient skills in the dark arts to protect you from any attack. You'll be staying with Snape, Harry." Dumbledore said, smiling. "Only for the holidays, of course," he added. Harry heard the Potion's master huff loudly behind him. With Snape? For six weeks? Harry fought with conflicting emotions. Staying with him meant being close to him, which was good, but facing his loathing for him every day? Bad.  
  
"Er....i wouldn't want to be any trouble," he said quickly.  
  
"Oh, you'll be no trouble at all," Dumbledore told him. Harry blinked. To him, maybe, but to Snape he was a very, very big problem. He heard the older man stand behind him. "Well, Harry, i'll see you in the new term."  
"I'm leaving now?" Harry asked  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "It would be convinient for you to leave now, yes."  
  
"Oh," Harry said, as was forced to walk down the stairs by Snape's tall figure behind him. "Bye then."  
As soon as they were at the bottom of the staircase - which was now surrounded by bustling students, most with suitcases. None of them even cast a glance towards Harry or the potions master as they made their way to Gryffindor tower.  
  
"Don't think i want you to be anywhere near me than absolutely nessecary, Potter," he muttered, just loud enough so that Harry could hear. Harry looked up.  
  
"The feeling's mutual," he lied, and hopped up the staircase to collect his things.  
  
  
When he came back down, battered suitcase and Hedwig's cage in hand, to find the Potion's master staring at him peevishly. Oh, get over it, Harry reprimanded angrily, jumping down the last two steps and makind Hedwig squeak in annoyance. Snape looked down at the bird. "Do you have to bring-" his lip curled "-That along?"  
  
"Yes," Harry said, then wishing he hadn't answered back so quickly - the corridor was deserted, and he'd never tried purposefully pissing off Snape before.  
  
"If you're going to be flippant, i suggest you find someone else to guard you over the holidays," Snape spat, then death-glared him and stormed down the corridor.Harry thought for a second, then decided he'd rather become a proverbial pincushion for Snape for a while than become a shish-kebab for a death eater. He looked at Snape's retreating figure.   
  
"Wait!" he called. Snape didn't stop, so Harry picked up his stuff and ran, Hedwig squeaking as she was thrown about her cage. Snape turned when Harry was less than three feet behind him and turned, raising a sardonic eyebrow.  
  
"Out of breath?" Snape asked, the sarcasm and stinging wit evident in his voice. Harry scowled. Maybe a shish-kebab wasn't that bad after all.  
  
  
************************  
  
So, people, what do you think?   
  
Let me tell you how this story is being written. This particular chapter is being written by Wil the Rickmaniac, and the whole story is eventually going to be written chapter by chapter by Amanda the Original Rickmaniac and, of course, Yuffie, (who i think should be called the Thing, or the Thing in the corner) and moi. It will be slash (and in abundance, too, since we're all slash-happy horny females) but not completely plotless. I hope you all review tons otherwise we'll send a nekkid Snape after you. And that's a bad thing, since he'll be so angry we stole all his clothes he'll come after anyone, even you, so beware :P  
  
Luv,  
  
Wil from the Rickmaniac Society. 


	2. Unexpected

Chapter Two; Unexpected  
  
  
  
Harry climbed off the broom. The ride had been very long and almost as painful and he was sure his butt was going to stay as numb as it was for ages. And he was certain he was walking funny. Looking across at Snape, he realized the older man wasn't walking funny - Harry came to the conclusion he must have a rock hard arse, or he'd charmed the broomstick.  
  
Why he'd insisted ont his method of travel Harry didn't know. It took forever and they'd have to wait for their luggage to be bought along later. He'd asked if Hedwig was allowed to fly alongside but had got another death glare and had been forced to shove the protesting bird back in her cage.   
  
The boy wasn't sure what he had been expecting Snape's house to be like, a mansion maybe, somewhere in the city - but he found himself in front of a small, pokey country cottage with flowers around the door and under one window. What looked like herbs - magical ones - grew on one side of the path, and what appeared to be a rather large black and purple mushroom on the other side. The cottage itself was a mock-tudor, white walls with heavy black beams and a thatched roof. It was pretty. Calming, even. It was so the opposite of Snape that Harry stifled a giggle.  
  
The man ahead of him whipped around and gave him a scorching glare. "What's so funny?"  
  
"Nothing," Harry said, biting his lip. He looked nonchalantly back at him for a second, then the door swung open.   
  
"Leave your broom by the door," Snape instructed, then stepped in front of the doorway as Harry looked inside. "There are some rules you need to know. One, stay out of my way. Two, touch nothing. Three, take nothing. Four, ask nothing."  
  
"Five, breathe nothing," Harry said, deadpan. Snape glared so violently Harry was sure he was going to explode.  
  
"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer," Snape eventually replied haughtily. "But remember, you're not in school any more, Potter, and that means some of the rules that applied there don't apply here." A dramatic pause. "I suggest you be careful."  
  
Then he swooped inside. What a delightful vision. What a passionate man. What a complete and utter prat.  
Harry gave his retreating form the finger and went inside, shutting the door behind him. It suddenly got very dark - there wern't many windows. Harry walked into what must have been the lounge. He'd expected it to be bare, sparsley furnished, but he found a forest-green painted room with two black leather couches, a huge black fluffy rug, and a roaring fire. How long had that been alight, Harry wondered. Bit of a fire hazard, especially with the rug so close and the building having huge black wooden beams and low ceilings. This was a side to Snape he'd never seen. It was cozy, warm, smelt of flowers, of Aunt Petunia - he shuddered even though it was warm - then snorted with laughter. He would have never of guessed Snape lived in a place like this.  
  
"Care to share the joke?" Snape asked coldly, coming up behind Harry.   
  
"Um...." Harry shook with surpressed mirth.  
  
"Potter....." Snape said warningly.  
  
Time to come clean. "I would have never of guessed you lived in a place like this, that's all," he said lightly. Harry stared back at him. He was so handsome. Unconventionally, or course, but there was no denying there was a form of beauty in there. And he was standing so close as well - he was sure it was meant to intimidate him, but it had the opposite effect. Harry had the sudden urge to launch himself at him.  
  
Snape broke the silence. "It's late. You're room's upstairs on the left. Don't disturb me." Then he went into the lounge and took one of the many books off the walls - potions, Harry realized. How mundane. The older man sat on the rug, between the sofa and the fire.  
  
"I'm not tired," he protested. Snape looked up. He hadn't expected interruption.   
  
"Unless you want to sit here reading potions books there's no other option," the potions master informed him. Harry thought for a second, then sat down opposite Snape, taking out a book from the wall. He looked at the pages without reading the words.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Severus Snape glared angrily at the page. He knew if he glared at the boy he'd look up, and judging by his current insolent streak he'd probably think of a witty retort. What a complete imbecile. And the boy kept looking at him. Studying him. Inspecting him. He was so like James . A tentacle of regret pierced his heart. Don't think about it, he scolded himself. Don't think about it and it'll go away.  
  
They had the same green eyes.  
  
Don't! he warned himself. He closed his eyes. It was over before he died anyway. Another tentacle. Please don't look up again, Harry, please don't.  
  
Harry looked up. Snape closed his eyes. When he opened them Harry was still there. The same Harry. The same dark hair and green eyes. He slammed the book shut and went to bed.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Harry was woken by screams.  
  
Loud heartbreaking screams. Dudley? No, he reminded himself as he looked around. He was in Snape's house. It had to be Snape.  
  
Creeping along the barely-lit floorboards he found the source of the screaming. It came from the door hidden in the shadows at the end of the corridor. Bracing himself, he turned the knob and went inside.  
Instantly the screams sounded louder. The room was lit by a candle near the head of the bed that cast eerie shadows along the walls and highlighted the curled figure on the bed. Harry stepped forward.  
"Snape?" he asked tentatively. He was scared. Really scared. This shoudln't be allowed to happen to him - he'd never had to deal with an upset adult before. It should be out of his hands. But it wasn't, he reminded himself sourly, and he was the one who had to deal with it.   
  
He was close enough to reach a hand out. He put his hand on the man's shoulder, felt the cool alabaster skin tremble under his touch before the thrashing continued. Harry shot back against the wardrobes at the back of the room. This was worse than anything. This was total and utter confusion. He was scared shitless. Who knows what a full-grown man might do in this state?  
  
Snape became calmer. The screams reduced to whimpers, the sheet stopped moving manically. Itt fell from his tight grip and Harry could see a finely muscled chest and felt his heartbeat rise - no, he reprimanded himself. This was neither the time nor the place.  
  
"Snape?"  
  
No answer. His voice was shaky. The man's arm moved and he saw the Dark Mark for one horrifying moment before it was covered by a fold in the sheet.  
  
"Severus?"  
  
A moan. It was almost a reply. Harry stepped forward, reached his hand out to touch his shoulder again. He resisted the touch, moving backwards.  
  
"Goayjays" The man on the bed murmured. Harry blinked.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Goway! Goway!" Snape cried, his voice getting louder and louder, his eyes wide as if seeing something beyond Harry. "GO AWAY JAMES!"  
  
Harry fled.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
****  
This chapter was written by Laura, aka Yuffie!   
  
Ner. How weird. Snapie poos has night-terrors. Poor babe.   
  
Hope you enjoyed. If so, review!  
  
I'll promise to get Mandy to lighten up on the next chapter, i promise. Special thanks to Wil for helping me with this chappie.  
  
  
Yuffie the Rickmanaic, Thing in The Corner. 


	3. Cumpassion

Harry looked up. He was sitting in the cold living room shivering whilst reading the book he had left out the night before - which actually seemed a long time ago - because Snape had walked in. The older man was wearing surprisingly muggle clothes, a black silk shirt and blue jeans. He walked past Harry without giving him a glance, and the boy couldn't resist leaning over to study his arse. Oh god, Harry thought, What reason has he got to hide it underneath that goddamn robe?  
  
He watched the vision disappear into the kitchen. Then he blushed. He really shouldn't be thinking.... Snape reappeared with a mug in hand.  
  
"Do you always have nightmares?" Harry asked abruptly. Then he looked up. Snape's cup was shaking and he slammed it down on the sideboard - it slipped out of the side of the mug slightly and on to his hand but he was too busy storming towards Harry to feel any pain, who raised his arms in self defence. When he lowered them Snape was less that a foot away from his face.  
  
"Who told you?" he snarled. Harry backed away from him - he wasn't going to let him intimidate him - and crossed his arms.  
  
"You were screaming last night. I came in. You were having a night terror." He paused. "I thought only children had those," he added spitefully. nape slipped into the seat opposite him. He had his head in his arms within a moment, his skin even paler than it usually was. There was a pregnant pause.   
  
"Go away, Potter," he said quietly. Harry got up and stood indignantly on the rug, his hands curled underneath his armpits. As much as he hated to hurt him like this - revenge, something hissed inside him - he wanted to badly. He wanted to push it further, to see if the tables really had been turned.  
  
"Come on, what is it? What have you been keeping from everyone?" he demanded. Silence. He took a step forward and Snape rose slowly from the chair.  
  
"Who said you had a right to know?" he said softly. Harry knew his ploy. The soft-but-dangerous voice didn't work on him any more.  
  
"I did," he growled. Snape blinked and Harry felt guilty for a second.   
  
"And who are you?"   
  
"We're not talking about me." Harry found himself nearer and nearer Snape with every word. "Come on, what is it? Your parents? Voldemort? My father?"  
  
"SHUT UP!" He yelled it. Harry was taken aback. Snape had shouted before, but yelled? No. It was always dangerously low or growled. And the way he was looking at Harry was strange. Harry'd hit a nerve and he was standing wide-eyed, his arms uncrossed. He looked as if he'd been slapped. "Just SHUT UP!"  
Harry wanted to stop. But he couldn't. Not now. Not when he was so near.  
  
"That's it, isn't it? James, my father. You had an affair with him, didn't you?" It was Harry's turn to yell. His father with Snape? Impossible. Just impossible. "How..."  
  
"No," Snape said. Harry looked into his eyes, saw a tear roll down his cheek. It was wiped away angrily. He shook his head. "No. That was the point."  
  
Harry sat down on the couch a few metres away from him. He'd made him cry. After all this time he had his revenge. He'd made him cry. He felt darkness and guilt shroud him. " I don't understand," he whispered.  
Snape had his back to him when he started speaking again, but Harry could see he was fiddling with his hands in his lap. "Harry, he chose your mother over me, ok? I know that's what you want to know. I act this way towards you because I resent you. I resent your existence, every fibre of your being because of who you are. And who you turned out to be."  
  
"You're so bitter because of that?" Harry said, looking up.  
  
"Got a problem?" he asked, turning. There was no infliction in his voice. "Why don't you rush off to tell you're little friends?"  
  
"What do you take me for?" Harry was outraged. "You think i'd tell anyone something personal like that?"  
Snape stood. "Anyone normal would," he growled.  
  
Harry did to. "By that you mean Slytherin."  
  
His eyes flashed. "Such an angst-ridden tone from the Boy-Who lived," he remarked. "You've no conception of what I've been through. Don't try to understand me."  
  
"You think I'd want to?" Harry asked, incredulous. "You'd think I'd want to know what goes on in that mind of yours?"  
  
"You don't know what pain is!" Snape yelled angrily. Harry would have been scared if he wasn't so angry.  
"You don't know what love is!" Harry stood, wide eyed, inches from his face. Then he kissed him passionately.  
  
Snape broke away, looked him straight in the eye. It was a question.  
  
Harry nodded, leaning forward and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. Snape caught his hands and Harry looked up.  
  
"Harry, I can't," he breathed. "You're too young, you're James son..."  
  
"I'm sixteen. And don't talk about my father. Please," he pleaded. "I want this. I know you do."  
  
"Harry, it's morally wrong," Snape protested, trying desperately to ignore Harry's hand snaking towards his crotch. "I'm your teacher."  
  
"Were," Harry corrected, as his hand found it's mark and their lips connected once more  
  
***  
  
  
Um, not as many funny bits in that chapter. But it was fun to write. And i did do as some of the reviewers wanted me to, i made sure i emphasised the fact that Snape and James was unrequited and suchlike whatever else....some of you may have noticed that it's not being written by all three of us any more ^_^ since i kept hogging the chapters with my uncliched weirdness and supposed excellent ideas, so we're doing a sort of challenge where we each write slash and whoever's got a certain amount of reviews in a certain time wins, so i get to carry on with weirdness. Also, as another point, chapter two was actually written by me and not Yuffie, long story, but basically i signed off with her name because she was overloaded with coursework. Anyway, expect lots and lots of slash in the next chapter since you all seem to be so perverted. I can see you all now, sitting on the edges of your seats with your face thrust in the monitor reading 'Yes Harry, harder!"  
  
Some of you may think that Sevviekins wouldn't cry. Come on, guys, everyone has weaknesses. He's not always infallible. Oh, and if you've thought of a plotline I might use, think the opposite and I will.  
  
You disgust me. Yet I still love you.  
  
Yours,  
  
Wil. 


End file.
